


Tale of the Pines

by Runs_With_Wolves1



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Amputation, Amputation Pain, Angst, Blood, Branding, Brothers, Canon Divergence - A Tale of Two Stans, Chronic Pain, Cigarettes, Demon Bill Cipher, Drinking, Dysfunctional Family, F/M, Family Issues, Family Reunions, Father-Son Relationship, Fix-It, Food Issues, Forced Prostitution, Gang Violence, Gen, Gravity Falls Oregon, Hiding Medical Issues, Homeless Grunkle Stan, Homelessness, Hurt/Comfort, Loss of Limbs, M/M, Mother-Son Relationship, Mullet Grunkle Stan, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Painkillers, Past Rape/Non-con, Past Sexual Abuse, Past Torture, Phantom pain, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Prison, Prosthesis, Prostitute Stanley Pines, Protective Pines Family, Rape, Rape Recovery, Self-Harm, Smoking, Stangst, Starvation, Suicidal Thoughts, Supernatural Elements, Swearing, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, Torture, Twins, Withdrawal, mentions of other fandoms, phantom limb syndrome
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-15
Updated: 2018-01-03
Packaged: 2018-05-26 05:41:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6226165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Runs_With_Wolves1/pseuds/Runs_With_Wolves1
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ford calls Stanley to Gravity Falls Oregon. But in order to take down the portal, he's going to need more help. So Ford calls for backup.</p><p>Nothing like the potential end of the world to bring the family together.</p><p>--<br/>Ford is an idiot, Stan's short a leg, Carrie gains back a son, Filbrick finally concedes he's an ass, and Shermie is the only mature adult.</p><p>--<br/>READ THE TAGS!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Stanley sat in his car, looking through the snow up at his brother's cabin. He looked down again at the postcard before sighing.

"Now or never, Stanley."

Stan rubbed at his left thigh, massaging the stump. He hated cold weather. Not only did it make living in his car a lot harder, but it always made his leg hurt. Stan rechecked the connecting straps of his prosthetic before rolling down his pants leg. Getting out of the car, he walked carefully while trying not to limp. Stepping up to the front door of the cabin, Stanley paused again.

"You haven't seen your brother in over ten years. It's okay. He's family. He won't bite."

He knocked on the door only to suddenly have the business end of a crossbow shoved in his face.

"Who is it?! Have you come to steal my eyes?!"

Stanford glared outside as his twin stepped back.

"Well, I can always count on you for a warm welcome. "

"Stanley, did anyone follow you? Anyone at all?"

Stan looked at Ford, his twin was disheveled and looked worse than Stan. Which was saying something as Stan was the one who was living out of his car.

"Eh, hello to you, too, pal."

Ford grabbed Stan and pulled him inside. Stanley stumbled and winced as his stump twinged at him, but was able to stay standing. Ford slammed the door behind him and turned to his brother, shinning a flashlight in his eyes.

"Ah! Hey! What is this?"

"Sorry, I just had to make sure you weren't... uh, it's nothing. Come in, come in."

Ford rushed off, Stanley limping after him.

"Uh, you gonna explain what's going on, here? You're acting like Mom after her tenth cup of coffee."

Ford turned to him, holding a red journal with a six fingered hand print on it. The book had a large number one on the front.

"Listen, there isn't much time. I've made huge mistakes and I don't know who I can trust anymore."

Ford glanced over at a medical skeleton cadaver and turned its head away from them.

Stanley was beyond worried now. His brother was acting insane, as in actually mental hospital insane!

"Hey, uh, easy there. Let's talk this through, okay?"

"I have something to show you. Something you won't believe."

"Look, I've been around the world, okay? Whatever it is, I'll understand."

Ford frowned but motioned for Stan to follow. Stan limped after him, stopping to rub his thigh for a second. Luckily Ford didn't notice. They ended up in the basement where a large underground lab was. Stan's eyes widened as the large triangular portal came into view. Stanley and Stanford stood in front of the machine.

"There is _nothing_ about this I understand."

"It's a trans-universal gateway, a punched hole through a weak spot in our dimension. I created it to unlock the mysteries of the universe. But it could just as easily be harnessed for terrible destruction. That's why I shut it down and hid my journals, which explain how to operate it. There's only one journal left. And you are the only person I can trust to take it."

Ford handed Stan the journal.

"I have something to ask of you. You remember our plans to sail around the world on a boat?"

Stan felt his heart leap into his throat. Was it finally happening? Were they finally going to fulfill their childhood dream. Stan smiled as he stepped forward.

"Take this book, get on a boat, and sail as far away as you can! To the edge of the Earth! Bury it where no one can find it!"

Just like that, every happy feeling left Stan. That was it? After ten years he only got to see Ford for five minuted before his brother was kicking him out?! Stanley could feel tears prick behind his eyes but he held them back as he spoke.

"That's it?! You finally wanna see me after ten years, and it's to tell me to get as far away from you as possible!?"

"Stanley, you don't understand what I'm up against! What I've been through!"

"No, no. You don't understand what I've been through! I've been to prison in three different countries!"

_'Hold still, pretty boy.'_

"I once had to chew my way out of the trunk of a car!"

_'Please let me out! Let me out, let me out!'_

"You think you've got problems?"

_'You tryin' to run from me? Let's see you run with only one leg.'_

Stanley swallowed hard as different memories hit him.

"I've got a mullet, Stanford! Meanwhile, where have you been? Living it up in your fancy house in the woods! Selfishly hoarding your college money, because you only care about yourself."

"I'm selfish? I'm selfish, Stanley? How can you say that after costing me my dream school?! I'm giving you a chance to do the first worthwhile thing in your life and you won't even listen!"

That hurt, that hurt more than anything Ford had said.

"Well, listen to this! You want me to get rid of this book? Fine, I'll get rid of it right now!"

Stan took out his lighter, holding it under the journal.

"No!"

Ford grabbed the book from his hands.

"You don't understand!"

Stan snatched the journal back.

"You said you wanted me to have it so I'll do what I want with it!"

"My research!"

Before Stan could light the book, Ford tackled him. Stan bit the inside of his cheek to stop from screaming out as he landed on his left leg. The stump throbbed in pain as phantom feelings ran up and down the missing limb. He saw Ford out of the corner of his eye going after the journal. Stan reached out, tripping him before limping after the book. Stan picked it up and turned to Ford.

"Stanley, give it back!"

Ford pushed him into some buttons as Stan wiggled away from his brother.

"You want it back, you're gonna have to try harder than that!"

Unknown to the twins, the portal had turned on behind them. The two of them both pulled on the journal, trying to get the upper hand.

"You left me behind, you jerk! It was supposed to be us forever, you ruined my life!"

"You ruined your own life!"

Ford kicked him, sending him into the side of a control panel. A symbol that was etched into the side of the metal burned into his shoulder. Stanley screamed as he was branded, falling the rest of the way to the floor. He scooted away from the molten symbol and grabbed at the wound. Ford rushed forward, placing his hand on Stan's uninjured shoulder.

"Stanley! Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry! Are you alright?!"

The smell of burned clothes and skin wafted around them. Ford pulled Stanley further away from the symbol.

"I-I didn't mean to. Stanley I-"

"S-shut up poindexter, I'm fine."

Cringing, he tried not to move the injured shoulder too much. It wasn't the first time Stanley had been burned or branded. Hell, it probably wouldn't be the last. While it hurt like hell, what hurt the most was that it had been Stanford who did it to him, accident or not.

"Let- let me see."

Ford turned Stanley around and got a good look at the injury. The symbol was burned clearly into the skin on Stan's back. It was bleeding slightly but most of all it was leaking a clear liquid. The skin was red around the edges while the center of the burn was a deep red, almost purple. It had been indented into the skin. Ford winced. He had done this to his brother, he'd branded his own twin.

"It's. . . it's a third degree burn. We should go to the hospital."

"No, no I'm fine. No hospital."

"Stanley, this needs to be treated! You could get an infection or-"

"Ford, is- uh, is that trans-dimension thing supposed to be like that?"

Ford glanced to where his brother was pointing.

"Shit!"

Ford rushed over to some consoles and pushed what seemed to be random buttons. The portal, which was glowing a bright blue, dimmed as it was shut down. Ford sighed in relief, running his hands through his hair.

"Jesus, one of us could have fallen through."

Ford went back to his brother.

"Come on, if you don't want to go to the hospital at least let me treat it."

Stanley huffed but nodded.

"Yeah, alright Sixer."

Ford grabbed Stan's uninjured arm and hauled him to his feet. Stanley bit back a moan of pain as what was left of his legs cramped up. He limped over to an office chair.

"Lee, is your leg hurt as well?"

"Nah, Sixer. Just pulled something, I'm fine. 'sides, I think the burn takes precedence."

"Right, right. Hold on I'll be right back."

Ford rummaged around the lab, looking for the first-aid kit. Stan quickly kneaded the muscle in his left leg, trying to lessen the cramps.

"Got it!"

Ford returned with the supersized first-aid kit. Stanley rolled his eyes, but turned his back to his brother.

"This would be easier if you removed your shirt."

Last thing Stan needed was for Ford to see all his scars.

"I don't thing I'm able to remove it."

"I could cut it off."

"No way! This is my favorite shirt and jacket!"

"They've got a huge hole in the back now!"

"Just work around it, okay?"

Ford huffed at his brother, but got to work. Stan winced and hissed a couple times as Ford cleaned and removed debris from the burn.

"Alright, why don't we head upstairs. Take a shower and then I'll put some cream on it to help stop an infection. I'll go to your car and get your clothes."

"Stanford, I-I don't. . . The-the clothes I'm wearing are all I've got."

Stanley looked down, ashamed. Ford looked at his brother, really looked at him. It was obvious now how bad Stanley had it. The young man looked awful. Bags under his eyes, dirty and torn clothes that hung off him. While he was still muscular, there was a hint of undernourishment.

"Lee, are you-"

Stanley flinched away from his brother's words. Ford stopped before he backtracked to fix this.

"Jeez, Stanley. You rushed here so fast you didn't even pack anything?"

Both twins knew that wasn't true, but it let Stan keep his mask somewhat on.

"Come on, I've got some spare clothes you can borrow."

"What about all that?"

Stan gestured behind them at the portal. Ford looked back at it as he picked up his journal.

"We'll figure it out in the morning."

 

* * *

 

Stan took the clothes Ford had given him, placing them on the sink's counter. Locking the door, the younger twin peeled off his ruined jacket and shirt, hissing as it pulled at beginning of a scab. The wound was going to scar, there was no doubt about that. Stanley had seen and experienced burns like this before. He finished stripping and sat down on the edge of the shower.

Stanley ran his hands over the top of the prosthetic before he started removing the straps. Pulling off the fake leg and the cotton sock from the stump was easy. Having to see the ugly white and red scars over his leg was the hard part.

From the mid thigh down on his left leg there was nothing, no knee, no ankle, no foot. . . no actual leg. The largest scar was at the end where his flesh had been folded over and sewn shut. It was jagged and had the cross scaring from the stitches. It reminded Stan of the crooked smile of a jack-o-lantern.

Stan spun himself around and stood up in the shower, hand bracing against the wall. Turning on the water he braced for the cold, only to be surprised when warm water came out. It had been forever since he'd had a warm shower, hell he'd have settled for room temperature! Stan turned his back to the water and nearly screamed. Spinning back around, nearly tripping himself in the process, he faced the water. Right, burns didn't do well in warm water.

Deciding to make this quick, Stan washed as best he could. After finally washing his hair after two weeks of it being greasy, Stan called it quits. He turned off the water and sat down on the edge of the tub and rotated his legs out. Standing again, Stanley used the counter to hobble over and grab a towel. Once dry he slipped on his prosthetic again before getting dressed.

A white t-shirt, boxers, long pajama pants and a pair of socks. He looked himself over and nodded. While some of his scars were visible because of the short sleeves, his stump was perfectly hidden.

There was a knock on the door.

"Stanley are you done?"

"Yeah."

The younger of the two opened the door and looked at Ford. Ford stood there holding another large first-aid kit.

"You shouldn't have put your shirt on, you're going to have to take it off again."

Stan took a deep breath and pulled his shirt off, turning his back to his brother. Ford sucked in a breath in surprise.

"Lee. . . what. . ."

"Please don't."

Ford froze. Stan never said please.

"Alright Lee."

Ford worked on slathering Silvadene over the wound as he tried to ignore the multitude of scars covering his brother's torso. Some gauze and medical tape and they were done.

"Come on, the guest bedroom is just down the hall."

 

* * *

 

 Ford was laying in his bed, unable to sleep. Today had not gone as he had planned, which was probably a good thing. Thinking back on it, he had acted horribly to Stan. And then- then he had hurt him. Stan and Ford had been in their share fair of arguments, but none of them ever got seriously hurt.

And those _scars!_ Long slashes of what appeared to be a belt, a couple stab wounds, and even a bullet wound, all scared over! And there were words. Someone had taken a knife and carved words into his brother's back. Ford was unable to read the horribly healed words, but he had made out one word. Ford wasn't sure what it meant, he didn't speak Spanish, but the word _PUTA_ was carved across Stanley's lower back.

Once Ford was done taking care of the problem called Bill Cipher, he was going to figure out what had happened to his brother.


	2. Chapter 2

It was not unusual for Stanley to sleep with his prosthetic on. He'd done so many times just in case he needed to make a quick getaway, just in case Rico ever came back. It was also not unusual for Stanley to wake up to the sound of alarms. Sitting up, Stan pulled out his Colt from under the pillow and unlocked the safety. It took a moment for his head to clear before Stan realized he wasn't hearing police sirens but was hearing a smoke detector.

Stan clicked the safety back on as he scrambled out of bed. His prosthetic became tangled in sheets, causing him to crash to the floor.

"Mother fucker."

Fighting with the sheets, Stanley freed himself. He limped as fast as he could down the stairs to the kitchen, following the mumbled cursing. Shit, that was Ford! Was he alright?! Was there a fire?! Stan wouldn't be surprised if someone had molotoved the cabin. Jorge had had that done to him once before. Stanley stumbling into the kitchen, gun ready. He was unprepared for what he saw. Ford was standing in the kitchen holding a fire extinguisher in one hand and a smoking broom in the other. There was a pan on the oven, both having been doused.

"Oh! Stanley! You're up. I was _trying_ to cook breakfast. Normally Fidds cooks, and since he left I've just been eating cereal and such- uh Stan? Why do you have a gun?"

Stanley cringed inwardly before rechecking the safety and tucking the hand gun into the front of his pajama pants, hiding it under his shirt.

"It's nothin' Ford. Can never be too safe. And you're one to talk, you're still carrying around a crossbow."

Sure enough, Ford's crossbow was slung across his back.

"Yes- well. . . safety _is_ important. . ."

Both twins stood there awkwardly.

"So, uh. You- you were cooking breakfast?"

Ford smiled sheepishly.

"Yeah. Or, well I was trying to. Normally Fidds would cook."

Stan perked up. Did Ford have a girlfriend?

"Is Fidds your girlfriend?"

Ford looked surprised for a second before he started laughing.

"No, no, nothing like that. Fiddleford McGucket was my old college roommate. He came up here as a research assistant."

"Ah. Well, I'm not the best but I can make a mean Stancake."

"Stancakes? Really?"

Ford raised and eyebrow at his brother, who simply crossed his arms and puffed out his chest.

"What? I like the name!"

"Alright, alright. Go make your 'Stancakes'. I'm going to go get the first-aid kit. After we eat I'll need to redo your bandages."

Stanley grumbled but waved Ford away. A couple minutes later, Ford returned just as Stan was pouring the batter for the first Stancake onto the frying pan. Ford was suddenly hit with a wave of nostalgia. Little Stanley in the kitchen, following their mother around like a lost duck. Helping stir batter or whip up some eggs, Stanley had loved helping their mother in the kitchen. Looks like he hadn't lost the fondness.

Ford set the table as Stan brought over the food. They sat down and began to eat silently. The air around the two of them was still awkward and both wished to brake it.

" **How**  What **are** have **Mom** you **and** been **Shermie-** "

Stan scratched the back of his neck.

"Sorry, you first."

Ford shook his head.

"No, you can go first."

Stanley pushed a piece of his pancake around in the syrup before speaking.

"How are Mom and Shermie?"

"Well Mom's job has really taken off. She now owns a little shop where she reads palms and such."

Stan laughed quietly as he ate.

"Shermie. . . Shermie married Patrisha three years after you-"

Ford cleared his throat.

"So Sherman married Trisha. Always knew he would."

"Lee, he did want to invite you. He looked all over for you."

"It's alright Ford. I doubt you guys could have found me at the time. I was in Guatemala under the name Sandalio Pérez" ****

Ford wondered if that was where Stan had gotten that word carved into his back.

"You were in Guatemala? How did you get there?"

"I grew wings and flew. How do you think poindexter? I drove."

"Haha, very funny. . . Listen Lee, Shermie and Trisha. . . they had a child last year. A little boy named Alex."

Stanley seemed to fold in on himself, sadness washing over his face.

"Last year? And- and I missed it?"

Silence was once again resumed. Stan slumped in his chair, obviously saddened that he had missed the birth of his nephew. The rest of breakfast was a quite affair. The twins finished eating and placed their dishes in the sink to be cleaned later.

"Alright Lee, let me take a look at your burn."

Stan turned in his chair so he was straddling the back of it. He slowly pulled his shirt over his head. Ford glanced slightly at the scars littering his brother's back. He could see more of the scars, just below the word _PUTA_ Ford could make out another word, _SOPLÓN,_ below it. Ford ignored it as he gently undid the gauze. For such a bad burn it was remarkably not showing any signs of infection. Ford took a washcloth and wiped the wound clean before reapplying some Silvadene.

"Stanley, I really am sorry for this. It was an accident."

Gauze and tape in place, Stan pulled his shirt back on.

"Don't worry about it, Sixer, Accidents- accidents happen."

Ford could hear a similar conversation replaying in the back of his memories.

_'Okay. I might have accidentally been, horsing around-'_

_'This was no accident, Stan; you did this!'_

Stanley had just forgiven him, for permanently scarring him.

"Stan I-"

"Forget about it Sixer. Why don't you tell me what's going on? Why are you being so paranoid?"

Ford took a deep breath before sitting down at the table.

"After I graduated, I decided to study anomalies. I moved up here because Gravity Falls has the highest rate of supernatural sighting!"

Stan snorted.

"Yeah, I know. Half way up the road to your house I had to pull over and kick a gnome out of the back seat."

"Wait. . . you saw a gnome and didn't freak? Most people would have flipped out!"

"I'm not most people, poindexter. You seems to forget that I have been around almost the entire country plus places outside it. While Gravity Falls may have a lot more going on, it's not the only place to have the supernatural."

Ford looked really excited, almost bouncing in his seat.

"Really? Where were you? What did you see?"

"Look Ford, we can swap campfire stories later. Tell me whats going on."

"Ah, right. So about a year and a half ago I hit a road block in my investigation of Gravity Falls. Until I found some mysterious writing in a cave. Ancient incantations about a being with answers. It warned me not to read them, but I was desperate. I read the inscription aloud. But nothing happened. Until later than afternoon, when I had the most peculiar dream. He calls himself Bill Cipher. He told me he was a muse. That he chose one brilliant mind a century to inspire. What a fool I was. Blinded by his flattery and games. He became my research assistant. He was free to move in and out of my mind as he pleased. We were partners."

Ford stood abruptly and began pacing. Stanley watched him with worry, and maybe just a bit of jealousy. Stan couldn't walk that well anymore. Stanley shook his head, chasing those thoughts away. Ford continued pacing as he spoke.

"When he told me I could complete my research by building a gateway to other worlds, I trusted him. He said this was the way genius happened. Little help from a friend. It seems that I was on the verge of my greatest achievement! Until Fidds got a glimpse of Bill's true plans. Bill's no muse or some spirit, he's a demon! That damn portal is a gateway into Bill's world, full of demons and monsters I can't even imagine. I'd been betrayed. I turned the portal off, severing the link between Bill's world and ours. I have to hide my instructions so no one could ever finish Bill's work. Bill's been waiting for the gateway to reopen ever since."

Ford pulled out his journal and handed it to Stanley.

"Please Lee, take this and hide it where it will never be found again."

Stan held the journal in his hands, looking down at the red and gold cover.

"Sixer, I don't think hiding this journal will be all that helpful."

"What? Of course it will!"

"Look Ford, it sound more like Bill and the portal are the main problem. You need to not just shut down the portal, you need to take it apart."

The elder twin sat back and rubbed his face.

"Your right Stanley, but this journal needs to be hidden."

"Alright, put it in your safety deposit box."

Ford blinked at his brother. He just sat there silently before he banged his head onto the table.

"Uh, Stanford?"

"Why in the hell didn't I think of that?! It's so obvious!"

Stanley leaned back in his chair and smirked.

"That's why you didn't think of it. You always over think and complicate things. Sometimes you just need to look at things from a dumb perspective, like me."

"Lee. . . you're not stupid."

Stan cleared his throat, looking embarrassed. He gently rubbed at his leg in a nervous tic.

"Is your leg hurt? You were limping after our. . . scuffle and again this morning. I can look at it if you want."

Ford watched as Stan froze for a second, hand tightening on his thigh. The younger twin shook his head.

"No, I just pulled something a couple days ago. Completely unrelated. No need to worry."

 Ford knew Stan was lying. He could always tell when his brother lied. Sure Stan was great at it, the best really, but Ford knew his brother very well. He also knew that if he pried, Stanley would lock up and refuse to talk. It was best to just let it slide. Stanley stood up and stretched before heading back to the stairs.

"Sixer, where are my clothes?"

Ford followed his brother.

"I washed your pants and everything. Your shirt and jacket are a lost cause, so I left them by the bathroom."

Stanley limped up the stairs, waving away his brother. Ford watched him go before heading back to the kitchen. He poured himself a cup of coffee and sat down to think.

The portal needed to be dismantled and quickly, but he couldn't do it by himself. Even with Stan's help, it would take them too long to do it. Time was of the essence here. He could always get more people to help, but it couldn't just be anyone. It had to been people he could trust. Fidds was out, the man wasn't around anymore and Ford wasn't sure if he was even sane.

Family. He could trust his family, like he still trusted Stan. Ford decided he'd call his parents and Shermie later. Right now he needed to buy some clothes for his brother.

Speaking of his twin, Stanley walked down the stairs. He'd changed into his own pants, but kept the shirt on. Stan was pulling on his ruined coat as he headed to the door.

"Lee, where are you going?"

"I'm leaving. I helped ya out, you don't need me anymore. So I'll just be going."

Ford scrambled out of his chair, nearly knocking over his coffee.

"What?! You can't leave, you just got here!"

Stan shrugged as he finished tugging on his boots.

"Please Stan, don't leave. I-I still need your help. And. . . and we were just started to reconnect."

Stanley froze, hand on the front door knob.

"Please Stanley. I missed you. I- I want to be brothers again."

Laughter. It started quietly but grew in strength. Stan was laughing. He turned to Ford and pulled him into a hug.

"You idiot. We've always been brothers!"

Ford returned the hug.

"So you'll stay?"

"Sure poindexter."

Ford smiled as he release Stan.

"Come on, let's go into town. You'll need some clothes that aren't mine."

As Ford pulled on his coat, he still felt like things weren't perfect between him and Stan. There was still an air of tense awkwardness derived from years apart. Ford feared it would become worse once he called their parents. Stanley hadn't seen or talked to Filbrick since he'd been kicked out. He hadn't even asked about him. As they walked to Ford's car, Ford really hoped that this wasn't a mistake.


	3. Chapter 3

Stan absolutely hated this. Not reconnecting with his brother, no that's all he had ever wanted. What he hated was taking Ford's charity. Stan was a proud person and the last thing he wanted to do was mooch off his brother. But Stan had no money, no clothes other than the ones on his back and his 'work' clothes, and he had used up what was left in his gas tank and wallet to drive 1200 miles to be here. Ford was right though, he couldn't just wear his brother's clothes. It didn't matter though, because the second Ford called for him, he would come running. He owed him that much for what he had done. It surprised him, even now as he stood next to Ford in the clothing store that they were here, together again after 10 years apart. Ford wanted his help, wanted to reconnect. Stan wasn't about to throw that all away by being stupid. Ford offered to buy him some new clothes, and Stan could pay him back. . . eventually.

"Stan!"

Stanley turned to Ford.

"Huh?"

"I called you a couple times, are you okay?"

Stan scratched the back of his head, smiling sheepishly.

"Yeah, I'm fine poindexter. What'd ya need?"

Ford looked at his brother suspiciously.

"Are you sure you're okay? Your- your shoulder isn't bothering you too much, is it?"

"I'm fine, Ford."

". . . Alright. Here, put this in the basket."

Stanley looked down at a packet of t-shirts, a mixture of whites and grays. He was hit with a sudden sinking feeling.

"Ford, I only need a new jacket."

Ford placed the shirts as well as some socks into the shopping cart.

"You can't just wear the same clothes everyday."

Stan felt his slight anxiety increase. One jacket wouldn't take too long to repay for, but an entire wardrobe? Stan couldn't afford that, not without any income.

"Lee, are you okay?"

Stan swallowed, feeling slightly clammy. He- he needed a smoke.

"Fine, I'm fine. I just need some fresh air."

He waved his brother back to his shopping before he limped his way to a side exit. Stanley stepped out into the cold winter air and heaved a sigh. Leaning against the side of the brick building, he pulled out a cigarette. Lighting and taking a long drag from it, Stan felt his nerves start to lessen. He hated being in debt. Debt was a dangerous thing. You never knew what was to come from it, who was going to come after him for their money. Ford would never do that, but Stanley would still rather pay him back.

"You sellin'?"

Stan jerked in surprise, looking up at the man in front of him. The man was muscular and had red hair. Beginning scruff of a beard shadowed his face. He was also looking Stanley over.

"What?"

"How much for a blow?"

Stanley raised an eyebrow and looked down at himself. He wasn't dressed like a whore, so how in the hell did this guy know what he did?

"How could you tell?"

The man smirked, crossing his arms over his plaid shirt.

"You may not be all dolled up, but I know a prostitute when I see one."

Stanley snorted, taking a drag of his cigarette before flicking it away.

"Sorry, I'm off the clock."

As he made to go back inside, the man stepped in front of him.

"Really? You don't need the cash? You sure look like you do."

Stan paused. While he wouldn't get enough money to pay back Ford with just this, it would be a start.

"Alright, 20 bucks for a blow job."

"20 bucks?! Are you kidding me?"

"You see any other street workers in this backwoods town?"

The man grumbled before pulling out a 20. Stan smiled.

"Where do you wanna go?"

The man jabbed his thumb pointing further down the side of the alleyway.

"You really want to do this outside? Your dick might freeze off."

"Not if you do your job."

Stan rolled his eyes but followed the large man down the alley. He really didn't want to have to kneel on the cold ground. If his prosthetic was more in contact with the cold, it would spread up to his leg. Stan really didn't want to have to work through any cramps, but if he made this quick it should be okay. He'd have to hurry anyways, Ford would come looking for him soon.

The man leaned back against the brick wall as Stanley sunk to his knees. He reached forward for the button of the jeans when he heard laughter. It was high pitched, manic, and sounded so very, very wrong. The man yanked on Stan's hair, forcing him to look into his eyes. They were yellow, the pupils slitted like a reptiles. Or a demons. Stan was suddenly reminded of Ford shinning a light in his eyes. This was what he had been checking for. Fear shivered down his spine as he looked into the eyes of the demon that was hunting his brother.

"Well well well well well well well, lookie at what I have here. If it isn't the little baby Pine."

Stanley jerked back onto the ground, out of the demon's grasp. Scooting away, he pulled out his Colt.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you. You wouldn't want to kill this meat puppet, now would you?"

Stan didn't lower his gun, but he did aim at something less vital. The demon smiled.

"I see you're a little more world savvy than Sixer."

"Don't call him that! Only I can call him that!"

The demon stepped forward as Stan moved back.

"Really? What give you the right? Hmm? You ruined his life ten years ago, he hates you. Why should you be allowed to call him something that's so affectionate?"

The demon smirked as he circled closer.

"Or an even better question would be, why are you here? Why are you helping him? You ruined his project, an accident. Yet you pay the price. A Homeless, crippled slut. Why come when he calls, like a dog? He never helped you in your entire life. He's using you. He's always been using you!"

Stanley's hands shook. He dropped his gun, covering his ears.

"Shut up, shut up, shut up! You're wrong! Ford- Ford is my brother! I've got his back just like he has mine!"

"Really Stanley? Are you sure?"

The demon in the human puppet knelt down in front of Stan, grinning at him. The side door to the store suddenly opened as Ford stepped out.

"Stan, I put the purchases in the car. It's time to- Stan?"

"Sixer! Look who came out to play!"

Ford jumped back, reaching backwards for his crossbow. . . which he had left in the car. Ford pulled out a large knife from his coat instead.

"Bill! Get away from him!"

The demon, Bill, stood up and started to walk towards Ford.

"Come on now, be nice. We are friends after all."

"Bullshit! You're not my friend!"

With Bill's back towards him, Stan was able to shakily make it to his feet. M1911 pistol in hand, he slammed the barrel into the back of Bill's head. The man's eyes clouded as the yellow left before he fell unconscious.

"Come on!"

Stan followed Ford, moving as fast as he could. His leg ached and he nearly stumbled a couple times as his prosthetic's joint moved slower than a real knee. They made it back to the car, slamming the doors and locking them. Ford started the car and floored it. The twins were silent as they drove, the only noise was their heavy breathing.

"Will that guy be alright?"

Ford kept his focus on the road, nodding.

"Yeah. Once he went unconscious, Bill's control slipped. But we need to get to the house. I have it warded against him, so we should be safe."

Stan chewed on the inside of his cheek.

"So, that was Bill?"

"Yes."

Stan repressed another shiver.

"He. . . was so _wrong_. He sounded so inhuman, and his eyes were just the worst."

Ford nodded, but didn't speak.

"Ford, are you alright?"

"I'm fine Stan. I should be asking you that? Did he hurt you?"

"Nah, I'm fine."

They remained silent, contemplating.

* * *

 

Ford glanced around as they pulled up to the cabin. There didn't seem to be anyone around, but better safe than sorry. Grabbing the shopping bags, the two of them cautiously making their way inside.

"We need to start taking down the portal."

Stan nodded, looking pale.

"Are you sure you're alright? Bill didn't hurt you did he?"

"No. I'm fine."

Stan's voice was strained, as if he was in pain. Ford walked around him and lifted his shirt.

"Hey! Ford! What the hell!"

Ford looked at the bandage on Stanley's back. No blood had seeped through, so he doubted it had reopened. Stan shifted slightly and Ford realized what was wrong. His brother was keeping all of his weight on his right leg, favoring his left even more.

"Stan, your limping again. Let me see your leg."

Ford moved forward but Stan stumbled back.

"It's fine, I told you it's nothing. Just leave it. And we need to take down the portal."

The elder twin knew he should ask, dig in some more. Something was wrong with his brother, something serious. As much as Ford wanted to know more, there was something even bigger they faced.

"Alright, but we're going to need help taking the portal down."

"Who were thinking of calling?"

"Shermie, Mom, and. . . Dad."

Stan opened his mouth as if to argue, but he paused. Bill. They were both thinking it.

"Call them."

Stanley turned and walked further into the house.

Ford watched him slowly limp away before he went into the television room and picked up the phone. Shermie would be easier to call first. He dialed in the number and waited as it rang.

_"Hello?"_

"Hey Shermie."

_"Ford?"_

"Yeah, it's me."

_"Jesus, Ford! I haven't heard from you in months!"_

"Sorry, and I wish this was a recreational call, but it's not."

_"What's wrong?"_

"I- I did something stupid. I was an idiot and I need help."

_"Help with what?"_

"I can't say. . . he-he may be listening."

_"He? Ford, what's going on?"_

"Please, Sherman. I need you to come out here."

_"Stanford, I need more info."_

"I can't but. . . Stan's here too."

_"What? Stanley's there."_

"Yes. He's helping me, but it's not enough. We need you. I-I'm afraid we may not finish in time."

_". . . Alright. You still in Gravity Falls?"_

"Yeah."

_"I'll be there as soon as I can. . . Ford?"_

"Yes?"

_"Be careful."_

Ford hung up the phone before taking a deep breath. The next number was dialed.

_"Pines."_

"Dad."

_"Ford? That you?"_

"Yeah. Sorry I haven't called in a while. . . I-I've been busy."

Filbrick didn't say anything.

"Dad, I'm in a lot of trouble and I need your's and Mom's help."

_"What kind of trouble? Did you get some girl pregnant."_

"No! No, not that kind of trouble! It's hard to explain. . . but. . . I need you and Mom to come up here."

_"Ford, what kind of trouble?"_

"I can't say! But it may kill me! Please!"

Filbrick was silent for a moment before speaking.

_"We'll try to be there soon."_

The line went dead. Ford sighed. He hoped he wouldn't regret this and he hoped that this mess could be fixed soon.

 

* * *

 

 

Stanley laid on the bed in the spare room, curling into himself tighter as he clutched his leg. Pain raced up and down his thigh and Stan whimpered around the rolled up hand towel in his mouth. His muscles cramped and spasmed causing tears to roll down his face. Stanley gripped his leg tightly, trying desperately to massage the appendage. Oh god, where were his pills? He'd left them in the car. Stan sobbed into the mattress, stifling the noise. He could hear Ford downstairs on the phone, and he wished to call down to him.

_'Please, please let the pain end!'_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the long wait. I had a huge paper due!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the short crappy update after such a long wait. There was a death in the family and I just kinda stopped writing. I just finally started up again. Sorry again for this piece of crap chapter. If you want me to redo this chapter, please tell me.
> 
> On another note biteinsane drew fan art for this fic!  
> Tumblr:  
> http://biteinsane.tumblr.com/  
> Fan Art:  
> http://biteinsane.tumblr.com/post/143183769480/box-of-tortoises-wanted-me-to-draw-one-leg-stan
> 
> So awesome! And thanks again biteinsane! You are amazing!

Ford stared at the phone before placing it in the receiver. It seemed there was going to be a family reunion. Looking around the living room, Ford realized there was another problem he had to fix. Where was everybody going to sleep?

The attic doubled as a second guest room, his parents could go there. But what about Shermie? Ford couldn't force Stan and Shermie to share, and he couldn't move one of them to the sofa. No, Stan would stay in the first guest room, Shermie could go in the attic bedroom, and Ma and Pa could have Ford's room. Ford could share with Stan, it's not like they hadn't done it for seventeen years. They could do it again. . . but if Stanley disagreed, Ford could always sleep on the sofa.

The next two hours were spent cleaning and moving things around in preparation for the rest of the Pines. The elder twin thought about asking Stan for help, but decided against it. Lee had spent who knows how long driving to get here, and his shoulder was still injured. . . and whatever was going on with his leg, it was just better to let him rest for now.

Rooms mostly finished, Ford brushed off the dust covering his clothes and shooed away a house spider. He shouldered his crossbow, heading to the porch to check the wards around the house. Opening the door, the snow blasted Ford in the face. Stepping outside into the cold, he looked over the runes carved into the wood of the deck. The intricate design could stop any being of energy. Bill could not enter the house through dreams or intangi- Ford stopped as he traced the copy of ancient inscription. This would stop Bill as he was, as an being of energy and power. This would not stop Bill if he was in control of a person. Ice seeped into his stomach that had nothing to do with the temperature.

Ford slammed open the front door as he yelled.

"Stan! Stan, where are you?!"

There was a loud crash from upstairs before Stanley stood at the top of the stairs.

"Ford? What's wrong?"

"The sigils! The wards on the house are designed to stop any creatures of energy! And Bill. . . Bill now has a real world body at his disposal."

"English, Poindexter."

"Bill can get in the house if he's in possession of a human body."

Stan swallowed nervously.

"Is there a way to protect the house? Like another shield or something you can add to the wards?"

Ford nodded as he started to pace the entryway.

"Fortunately there should be a way to shield us from his mental tricks and a way to Bill-proof the house. All I have to do is place moonstones around the perimeter, sprinkle some mercury, and ugh, we need _unicorn hair_."

"Is it super rare or something?"

Ford rubbed his face in agitation.

"Unicorns reside deep within an enchanted glade, and their hairs can only be obtained by a pure, good hearted person who goes on a magical quest to find them."

"Damn."

The twins were silent, thinking. Both knew that neither of them were 'pure' in body or in heart.

"Does, uh does it have to be given or can it be taken by force?"

Ford thought for a second.

"The hair should work either way, but even if we are willing to fight, we still have to find the enchanted glade. I have a map to it, but it's in one of my other journals. We'll have to go get it first."

Stanley hunched his shoulders and grumbled.

"Great, lets go spend who knows how long stomping around in the snow."

Even though he complained Stan was walking down the stairs, pulling on his jacket. Ford grabbed a pack and reshouldered his crossbow. The two brothers stepped out of the house and into the cold. As they headed down the drive towards the forest, Lee veered off suddenly.

"Hold up, let me grab something from my car."

Ford waited as Stan went to the Stanley Mobile. Quickly looking over everything, Stan grabbed a bottle of pills. Stuffing them into his pocket so his brother wouldn't see.

"Alright, lets go."

 

* * *

 The twins marched through the snow, Ford leading the way. Normally Stan would be pretty upset at this point, he hated the cold. His leg had already had a spasm today and the low temperatures wouldn't help. Luckily Stan had thought ahead and taken a pill for the cramps and another for pain. . . Stanley smiled slightly to himself. So he may have taken one pain pill more than he should have, but it was definitely giving him a plesent high. The opioid heightening his senses and increasing his reaction time. And it wasn't like Ford had noticed, so all was good.

Ford stopped next to a tree and knocked on it. It made a metallic ring. Ford grinned as he opened a secret compartment in the tree.

"Alright. So I'm not 100% sure where the journal is hidden underground. It all looks so different during the winter. I think we should clear out a six foot by six foot area. That way when we open-"

Stan pressed the large button on the control panel. A section of snow caved in the ground.

"Found it."

"Lee! I didn't want to get it wet!"

Ford reached into the drift and pulled out Journal number 3, brushing dirt and snow off the cover. Ford thumbed through it before flipping to the correct page, looking the map over.

"Okay, so luckily it's not too far from here. We just need to walk to go this way for a bit."

 "Lead the way."

Ford turned and started deeper into the woods, which seemed impossible considering how far in they were. Stan glanced around them as they walked. Who knew if Bill was following them, or maybe he was back at the house waiting for them. Having a home base was more trouble than what it was worth when you were trying to stay safe. If you stay in one place, you're easily found. Stan had learned that the hard way.

"Could- could Bill be back at your house?"

Ford continued walking.

"Maybe, but we'll know the second we get back. The wards may not keep him out, but some are indicators. A signal will be activated."

"But he has a human body now. Can't he just turn off whatever signals are set off?"

"I highly doubt he can stop a firework onces it's already gone off."

"Yeah, I guess not."

Stanley continuef to glance around nervously. Ford stopped and turned to his brother.

"Are you okay? You seem a little. . . off."

"I'm fine poindexter. Can we please get going? I'd rather not freeze my ass off."

Ford stared at Stan before nodding slowly.

"Yeah, come on. It's just up ahead."

'Just up ahead' was another forty minutes of walking, but Stan had to admit the magical part of the forest was something else. A miniature Stonehenge stood in the clearing, a frozen river running through it. A script similar to the wards on the house were etched into the stones. Everything was covered in a dusting of frost, making the entire area sparkle. Stan had never really found nature to be all that beautiful, but this took his breath away. A strong sense of absolute calm settled over him and nearly caused him to cry. Stanley couldn't remember the last time he had felt so unafraid, so. . . so _hopeful_. The magic of this place soothed him, even his leg didn't hurt or twinge.

"I know, it has a strange effect."

Stan startled at Ford's voice.

"Yeah. This area is full of magic. It has a different feeling for everyone. It makes me feel limp."

"Limp?"

"That's the best way I can describe it. Kind of like I want to just curl up and take a nap. What about you?"

Stan looked slowly around the glade as if seeing for the first time.

"It makes me feel warm."

Ford glanced at his brother wondering what that could mean. The magic in this part of the forest responded to each person differently. Like a mind of its own, it either liked you or didn't. Ford felt that the woods tolerated him, sometimes even having a fond exasperation for him, but it seemed to like Stan. Unsure what this meant or how it might effect their chances with the unicorns, Ford flipped to the summoning page and started the chant.

"Ek bjóða þú forn kvikindi! Hníga yðar dyrr svá vér mega heill vaða!"

A large golden door suddenly appeared and started to open. Stan's jaw dropped.

"Well shit."


	5. Chapter 5

"Shit shit shit!"

Hunter Corduroy paced back and forth across his bedroom. He gripped his cropped red hair in both his hands, chewing on his lower lip in agitation. Everything had gone to hell in a handbasket. One moment he was shaking hands with Cipher and the next thing he knew he was watching his body from outside. That triangle bastard had hijacked him and went to town, literally. Hunter had watched as his body paid for a male prostitute a few years older than him, than tried to kill him. Cipher may have succeeded if it weren't for the crazy scientist who lived up the road!

"Shit! Oh fuck. Shouldn't have done it. Shouldn't have made the deal."

**_But you did and now I own you._ **

Cipher's words echoed in his head. Hunter spun around, raising his fists.

"Cipher! Get out of my head!"

_**Now why would I do that? I gave you what you wanted. More time. Now you have to hold up your end of the deal.** _

"Fuck you! This isn't what I thought you meant!"

_"Oh, but isn't it?"_

The words were whispered in his ear, not his head. Hunter swung around but there was nothing there. Bill's laughter filled his ears, coming from everywhere.

"Leave me the fuck alone!"

"Hunter, are you okay?"

Hunter nearly jumped out of his skin. His younger brother, Dan entered into his room.

"O-Oh, hey BD. Yeah, yeah I'm fine."

Hunter wiped the sweat from his brow, hoping Dan would buy it.

"I told you not to call me that. Nobody calls me Boyish Dan anymore. I'm _Manly_ Dan."

Hunter grabbed Dan and pulled him into a headlock, digging his knuckles into his scalp.

"You'll always be Boyish Dan to me, BD."

"Alright, alright, alright already! Let me go!"

Dan waved his arms around in an attempt to dislodge his older brother. Hunter let go, causing Dan to tumble to the ground in a heap. Dan huffed up at him and took the hand Hunter extended to him.

"Ma says dinner's almost ready. Pa also says to get the truck ready for tomorrow morning. We've got lots of trees to chop."

As Dan was leaving he looked back at Hunter. The lumberjack looked tired, pale, and continued to shift nervously.

"You sure you're okay?"

"Yeah, BD. Go downstairs. I'll be down in a minute."

Hunter stood in his room, alone again.

**_How sweet. It makes me sick!_ **

A shiver of fear crawled up Hunter's spine. Cipher's maniacal laughter filled his head.

 

* * *

 

 

Ford and Stan approached the open door, crossing the threshold. Even though it was the dead of winter, the glade inside was in the middle of summer. Flowers, most of them pink or purple, spread through the vast meadow. A creek flowed down the center ending in a small lake near the entrance. Perched near the shore was a unicorn. It laid serenely in the tall grass, legs tucked neatly to its underside. The creature was smaller than Stan thought it would be, only slightly larger than a deer. The fur was blue-tinted and it had three blue gems tattooed on its flank. The mane was a mixture of blue, pink, yellow, purple, and green. The tail was similar to that of a lions, a tuft of hair at the end in the same colors as the mane. And there, jutting from the center of its head was a two foot long horn. The horn was a pure white, light reflecting off in an array of colors. It spiraled upwards ending in a deadly point. The creature turned to look at them and Stan was surprised by how big its eyes were. It was unsettling.

"Hark! Visitors to my realm of enchantment!"

Stan jumped. The damn thing could talk! Not through its mouth, but its horn. The unicorn, a she as far as Stan could tell, stood up and walked towards them. She saw Ford and pointed her horn at him.

 "Have you come to test yourself again, mortal? I told you once before, it does not matter if you are pure of heart or not. A demon has left a black stain on your soul, I will not give you my hair."

Ford deflated.

"I know, but we need your hair. To protect ourselves from the demon. Please!"

The unicorn stomped her hoof, and both brothers could see how sharp those were as well as her horn.

"For a pure reason or not, you are tainted. Leave."

Ford grabbed Stan by the shoulders and shoved him in front of him. Stan was now face to snout with the unicorn.

"What about my brother?! He- he's not been touched by Bill. Can you give him the hair?"

"Whoa, wait a second Sixer-"

The unicorn shoved her face into his, cutting him off and nearly clipping the top of his head with her horn. Stan swallowed as the creature's large unnerving eyes stared into his. She shook her head slowly before snorting and turning away.

"I don't work with druggies."

Stan felt his heart skip a beat. She knew? How could she know?

Ford growled and stomped after the unicorn.

"Now wait just a minute! You didn't even read him! When you read me, there was magic and stupid sparkles and such! All you did was look at him! And I don't appreciate the lies! Lee is not a drug addict!"

Stan backed away, watching as his brother and a unicorn argued.

"I don't need to look into his heart to see that, all I need to do is look into his eyes!"

"Oh, so now you can read us by gazing into our souls through our eyes?! I was skeptical the first time around, but now this is just ridiculous!"

Ford and the magical creature were nose to nose yelling at each other. Two more unicorns came around from behind a cliff of rocks and were watching. A faun stood by, clutching his reed pipes to his chest. Ford glanced at them, anger growing.

"Last time I was here you said you were the last of your kind. That seems to be completely false!"

"Oh for heavens sake! Alright, fine. So you learned my secret, I'm not the last of my kind, but that doesn't mean I'm wrong about your brother. I don't need to 'gaze into his soul', just look at his eyes! Anyone can tell he's high!"

Stanford turned to his brother.

"Stan, tell this _horse_ that you- Stan?"

Ford looked at his brother, actually looked. Stanley stood back, his shoulder hunched and head hung. He was nervously chewing on his bottom lip. Ford may not have seen his brother in ten years, but he knew what he looked like when he was feeling guilty. Ford calm walked to Stan and gently grabbed his chin, tilting his head up. Stan's pupils were pinpricks, making the light brown irises nearly wash them out. His eyes seemed to be glazed, and a sweat coated his forehead. Ford was not a medical doctor, but the unicorn was right.

"Stan. . . you. . ."

Ford let his brother's chin go, dropping his hands to his side. Stanley couldn't. . . could he?

_'Hold up, let me grab something from my car.'_

Stan had gone to his car before they left, could he have been grabbing his drugs? And while they were walking, Stan did seem to be a little off. He was either super focused or in a daze.

"Lee. . . what. . . what did you take?"

Lists of drugs ran through Ford's mind along with calculations. What had Stan taken? How much? Was he high or close to overdosing? Stan was 6'4", underweight maybe 135 140 pounds? What had he eaten earlier? How much food? More food meant more time for whatever to kick in if he ingested it. Was it a pill? An injection? A powder? There were too many unknowns!

"Ford, Ford stop. I'm fine."

"Fine! You call this fine?! Stan, there are so many things that can go wrong! What did you take, how much did you take, what do you weigh?!"

Stan pushed Ford back from him as he fussed.

"Look Poindexter, this isn't why we came here. We came here for unicorn hair. And frankly, I am tired of walking around."

Stan slipped his brass knuckled onto his hands, getting up into the Unicorn's face.

"Give us your mane, and nobody gets hurt. ¿entender?"

"Oh. So it's a fight you want. Well, then it's a fight you're gonna get!"

All three unicorns charged at Stan, head down, horns ready to spear him. Before Ford could pull his crossbow, Stan had rolled to the side. He grabbed the first unicorn by her mane as she cantered past, pulling hard. The creature stumbled and fell backwards. The other two turned and charged him again but Stan was ready, he punched the red unicorn across its snout and dropped to a knee and slammed his brass knuckles into the last ones leg. Ford winced as he heard something snap. The blue unicorn fell, whinnying in pain at what was obviously a broken leg. The red unicorn shook its head and reared.

"C-Beth, get up."

The first unicorn, C-Beth, stood up from where she had fallen. The two creatures faced Stan, who was still kneeling near their downed companion. They charged again.

Ford had grown up watching Stanley fight. Boxing or with other kids, but he'd never seen this. Stan fought with the attitude of a cornered stray dog. Each blow he dealt was not just meant to knock down, but to injure. The look in his eyes was wild and for a second, Ford could see just how scary his brother could be. The fight ended quickly with all three unicorns on the ground. Two with a broken leg and C-Beth knocked unconscious with a chip in her horn. Stan pulled a knife and cut off most of her mane in large chunks. Ford almost felt sorry for her, almost.

Stan turned to his twin, holding up a mass of hair. His smile was a mile wide until he saw Ford's unamused face. Stanford grabbed Stanley by his upper arm, pulling him away.

"Home. Now."


	6. Chapter 6

The walk back to the cabin was more direct and shorter than the walk out, but that didn't make it any easier for Stan. Ford pulled him along by his bicep. Deep snow or an unseen rock would cause Stan's prosthetic leg to slow or catch and Stan would stumble. Every time he did stumble, Ford would haul him up and drag him faster. Stan knew Ford though it was the drugs making him stumble, but really it was a combination of the weather, the pace, and Ford himself. The scar tissue was starting to cramp again and the muscle relaxer and pain meds couldn't keep up, too much strain after an attack.

They were nearly back when Stan's prosthesis caught on a root under the snow. Unable to feel the root until his leg was out from under him, Stan stumbled again, this time falling to his knees.

"Shit, Stan!"

Ford pulled on his brother's arms and forced him to trek the last hundred feet to the front porch. Ford kicked the door open and nearly threw Stan onto the couch.

"We need to call for an ambulance."

"No!"

Stan leapt off the couch, wincing as his leg twitched and started to cramp. He needed to get upstairs and hide, work his way through the pain. He couldn't do that with Ford watching him or at a hospital. And hospitals were never any good news for Stan, he only went there in dire circumstances. A slight high from his pain meds was not a good reason.

Ford stopped heading for the phone.

"Lee, you could be in serious trouble here! Overdosing can kill you!"

Stan shook his head.

"No, no, I'm fine. I'm not overdosing I-" _I know how that feels._

Stan heaved a sigh, rubbing his forehead.

"I'm not overdosing, I'm just a bit high. If I was going to overdose, it would have happened earlier. Please trust me when I say I'm fine."

Ford stared at his brother. His logic wasn't perfect, but he was probably right.

Ford started to pace in front of Stan.

"It doesn't matter if you're overdosing or not! Drugs?! Who knows what they could be doing to you?! What did you take? Give them here!"

Stan chewed on his bottom lip for a second before reaching into his coat pocket. He handed over two orange prescription bottles. Ford took them and read the labels.

**Rx#: 000742**

**Refills: 4**

** For: Hal Forrester **

** Directions: Take one tablet as needed. No more than two per day. **

** Cyclobenzaprine 10mg.  
**

** Quantity: 4 months **

** Dr. Woodruff, Katelyn **

The second bottle was similar, but it was for hydrocodone.  


"Stan, these are some serious medicines. Hydrocodone is very addictive! And who the hell is Hal Forrester?!"

Stan limped forward and tried to swipe back his pills. Ford pulled them out of his reach.

"I'm Hal Forrester. It's an alias I sometimes go by, and those are my prescriptions. They're not illegal."

"It's illegal to abuse prescription drugs! And I wont let you use them while you're under my roof!"

Stan grit his teeth as his leg sent an electric bolt of pain up his spine.

"Then I'll sleep in my fucking car! Give them back, Ford!"

Ford tucked the bottles into his coat pocket, turning to head towards his office. He had a safe he could put these in. Stan made to follow, but his leg disagreed. Stan cried out as pain forced him to the floor. Ford spun around at his brother's cry and rushed forward, wrapping his arms around Stan's shaking shoulders.

"Lee! What's wrong?!"

Stan grabbed Ford's biceps and leaned his head against Ford's chest.  


"Please, F-Ford. I need my medicine. I-It _hurts_ "

"You already took too much, I can't let you have anymore. Just tell me what hurts."

Stan clenched his teeth and buried his face in Ford's sweater. Tears gathered in the corner of his eyes, but he refused to let them fall.

"My leg. God, Ford. _Please_ "

Ford wrapped his arms around Stan's torso under his armpits. With a secure hold on his younger brother, Ford was able to get Stan to his feet. They both stumbled their way over to the sofa. Stanford tried to place Stan down slowly, but even with all the weight Stan had lost Ford was not strong enough. Stanly groaned in pain as he flopped onto the sofa. Ford knelt down in front of him, reaching for the leg Stan had been favoring ever since he arrived yesterday.

"No."

Stan swatted at Ford in an attempt to stop him.

"Lee, let me look. Where on your leg does it hurt?"

Stan placed his hand on his left thigh. Ford nodded and stood up. It was too high to roll up his pants. Ford started to undo the button on Stan's jeans.

"NO!"

Stan swung wildly at him and Ford was barely able to dodge backwards.

"Stan! Stan, stop!"

He grabbed Stanly by the shoulders. The younger twin froze before looking up at him.

"Lee, let me see."

Stan gasped in pain, but shakily undid his pants. Ford helped him lean forward as he removed them. Stan stopped for a second just before the scaring. Now or never. He pulled his jeans the rest of the way off, sitting their in his shirt, jacket, boxers, and socks. His leg, or what was left of his leg, was out for viewing.

Ford felt his heart skip a beat as his stomach dropped to the floor. Ford was expecting a somewhat new wound. Maybe a knife wound that still had stitches. It would explain why Stan would be limping. Ford did not expect this. From Stan's mid left thigh down, there wasn't a leg. Oh God, _there wasn't a leg!_

Ford felt like he was going to be sick, but a short cut off yell of pain from Stan pulled him back. This was not the time to panic.

Ford pushed Stan back so that he was lying down on the sofa. He looked the prosthetic over before spotting the strap that held it on. Ford got to work loosening it and pulling the fake leg away. Next he rolled off the fitted sock from the- the amputated limb. Jesus Christ, the scarring was bad. Ford watched in horror as he could see the muscles in Stan's thigh ripple and spasm.

Heat, heat would help. There was a heating pad in the boxes in the attic. Ford raced up the stairs and into the attic. He dumped several boxes before finding the damn heating pad. Running back downstairs, Ford winced when he saw Stan. Stanly was biting the base muscle of his thumb in an attempt to stay quite, whimpering slightly as he used his other hand to grab his leg. Ford plugged in the heating pad and turned it on. He dashed into the kitchen, returning with a hand towel. Ford rolled it up and handed it to his brother. Stan grunted as he pulled his hand from his mouth, teeth marks red on his skin. Stan took the towel and bit down on it.

Ford fiddled with the bottles of pills in his pocket before shaking his head. He didn't know how much Stan had taken earlier, and Ford was pretty sure Stan would lie to him about it now. Who wouldn't in order to get relief? Ford scootched under Stanly's legs, placing them in his lap. Rearranging the heating pad so that it was under Stan's amputation, Ford started to gently message the muscle. This was the best he could do for his baby brother.

They sat there for an hour, the only noise was Stan's muffled sobs and Ford's quite words as he told stories from their childhood. Eventually Stan fell into an uneasy sleep. Ford continued to sit there, watching his brother. Stanley had had his leg amputated. Why? So many injuries and scars, and now this?  What had happened to him?

Ford started to cry silently as he watched his sleeping twin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry y'all had to wait so long for such a short chapter. I hope to update more often.
> 
> Up next: Filbrick and Carrie (Ma) Pines!


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